Pagan Poetry
by SLLokabrenna
Summary: Upon kindling an unexpected romance with Kylo Ren, a broken woman, part of the newly reborn Nightsisters, learns the true meaning of passion and gains sight of her destiny. Kylo/OC
**Pagan Poetry**

 _Authors Ramble: Sequel to "The Embrace", I knew I had more story in me. This is set several years before the events of The Force Awakens. And I no longer care if my OC gets slapped with a Mary Sue label. You pretty much can't write an OC without someone wanting to rip it apart. I didn't want to use anyone within canon to tell this story. You can find amazing Reylo easily…but I have something different in mind. Giving an R rating for language and future violence and smut._

 **Chapter One: Shattered Frame**

" _I go through all this, before you wake up, so I can feel happier, to be safe up here with you." – Hyperballad, Bjork._

I thought I knew exactly what to expect when Kylo Ren invited me to his private chambers. After weeks of secret embraces, passionate kisses, feigned business meetings, lightsaber sparring, and the occasional grope of my breast I thought I knew the climax awaiting. To say I was eager was an understatement. For the first time I'd spent hours staring at my reflection in the mirror, fussing with my braids, adding additional layers of kohl eyeliner to my otherwise lifeless brown eyes, contemplating if my facial tattoos helped or marred my appearance, trying on different styles of the crimson robes of my Order. In time the moment came when there was nothing more I could do appearance wise and would simply need to go through the motions and pray he wouldn't reject me.

At first Kylo Ren had concocted a complicated plan that consisted of me wearing my Stormtrooper guise, and Kylo throwing a convenient rage fit in the hallway that destroyed any of the cameras that may have captured my image. But I assuaged him that none of it was needed. For months I'd been moving unseen though Starkiller Base, and I'd wanted to show him tonight, I wouldn't even need to knock upon his door. He insisted upon throwing the rage fit, but otherwise agreed willingly to my plan.

Attuning myself to the universal structured web of energy flow was second nature to me, a skill I was aware of before Supreme Leader Snoke snatched me from the chains of slavery and granted me a place within his newly resurrected Nightsister sect. Like the Force, unseen pathways of energy flowed throughout everything in existence, even within the man made steel halls of Starkiller Base. Those who could see this flow of energy could also follow its path. The walker of paths could effortlessly though walls, off planets, across the galaxy, even into other galaxies…other universes. No hyperdrive or life support system was needed to world walkers, although only the truly adept could venture into multiverses. The Andromeda Galaxy and Milky Way were the furthest I'd ever stepped, hardly a mile deep within the scope of the observable universe. It wasn't always a reliable method of transportation; so few could manage it and with the right amount of Force it was easy to wall one within the webs, or block passages of from the walkers. For example, at the moment I was bound to Starkiller, Snoke had me pinned so tightly I couldn't even venture outside the walls using the web. It would be met only with an impregnatable wall if I tried, and believe me I have.

I turned from the mirror were my image tried vainly to be seductive and instead allowed my eyes to relax, and there, just ahead of my feet was a silvery pathway that plunged though the wall. I muttered a few ritualistic spell words to insure that my body wasn't attacked by astral forces before I stepped onto the path, slipped through the realms and followed the gleaming path though the walls, feeling no resistance within my body as I crossed. I witnessed several portals…some leading to other areas within Starkiller, others off world, out of the realm completely; however I was most aware of the portal in which I felt a wholly familiar energy of sadness, aggression and passion. My footsteps carried me to the doorway within a matter of nanoseconds, as I passed the threshold there was brief sensation of vertigo that I overcome easily enough. I blinked and the gleaming web disappeared, instead I stood in a room rather identical to most within Starkiller base, although larger but just as cold and detached, the lighting dimmed to near total darkness. There was only a singular chair, and pedestal in which something grey and half melted rested as though it were an object of worship. A powerful yet sorrowful and distraught energy flowed from the melted object which I couldn't see clearly….it was almost identical to the aura of Kylo Ren.

The thought of him tore my attention away from the strange object, Kylo Ren was seated in the low leather chair, unmasked. As usual his pale face rendered me breathless. I didn't matter how many times I had etched its details within my mind and held in close to my heart, I craved it all the same. Much of the time he was hidden away behind that leering visage; masking the sensitive, almost innocent looking features beneath. Even more astonishing was the fact that he wasn't wearing his usual layers of robes, armor and leather, instead he was dressed in what was best described as a loose black tunic and trousers, although both were embroidered in silver thread far more elegantly than anything a commoner would have possessed. His saber hung at his belt, a clear sign he was at heart always a warrior and would never fully trust me, but I could accept it...after all beneath my robes I was still wearing the saber he'd passed to me.

Kylo leaned forward a bit in his chair, a slight smile crossing his haunted features, "That was impressive Ikol, I've only read of portal crossing abilities like that. You have true talents."

I smiled sheepishly, unable to meet his gaze, "It's nothing…something I was born knowing. You should see what the other Nightsisters can do…"

He tensed a bit in his chair, appeared to pull himself up a bit more, "That's Snoke talking…down playing your worth…" his voice was oddly strained, and it choked itself off before the thought could be fully formed.

"What did you say?" I prodded cautiously…that wasn't like Kylo Ren.

"I said nothing." He responded, his facial expression changing completely from the vulnerable one I'd seen moment before.

But I know what he'd said. I knew well enough that there was another, subdued and subjugated identity lurking within Kylo Ren. A frightened, distressed and abandoned boy named Ben Solo. I wasn't certain, this wasn't something I would ever dare voice to Kylo Ren…but for a moment I wondered if that innocent expression, that diminutive rail against Supreme Leader was actually Ben Solo.

Be it Kylo Ren or Ben Solo, it didn't truly matter…after all, I to loathed Supreme Leader Snoke.

Kylo, undoubtedly Kylo Ren stood and crossed the room, looming above me as always, but keeping in true to the nature I only bore witness to, he swooped down and allowed me to throw my arms around his form and kissed me with sweet insistency. I allowed the kiss to devour me, and found my hands wondering down his neck, tracing the thick cords of muscle in his shoulders and arms and lacing my fingers through his. I'd never before seen nor felt so much of his skin before, I'd only ever seen his face before now. I parted to drink in the sight of him, suddenly overwhelmed by the prospect that very soon I would see him completely naked, already just this hint intoxicated me.

He felt me undressing him with my hesitant eyes and blushed before lowering his own dark gaze, his black curls fell across his face and revealed his overlarge ears. I found them as charming as the rest of him, and I tried to voice this opinion when I saw self-consciousness grace his features. He swiftly pushed his hair back into proper place but something interrupted the moment. A looming unseen presence, a shadow lurking in the corner that belonged to neither Kylo nor myself.

He sensed it as well, the playfulness of the moment disappeared and he turned toward the melted object on the pedestal. I looked closer at it, it appeared to be a metal helmet, similar style to Kylo's but with a more menacing gargoyle like visage, "That was my grandfather's helmet, Darth Vader. He needed it to sustain his life."

I glanced about the room, I couldn't see a ghost which was typically as easy for me as walking the hidden pathways and I found that most unusual. However I could feeling the brooding presence and dimly heard what sounded like the hiss of mechanical breathing. "Lord Vader…" I spoke in the direction of the helmet. "Thank you for your legacy." The words felt stilted in my opinion, I knew the name and the legend and little else, but the foreboding presence eased away and Kylo seemed pleased by my homage. He moved to the helmet and touched its surface delicately, almost as delicate as the way he'd touched my cheek. I suppressed a giggle when I noticed that his short nails were lacquered black, perhaps it was some unknown to me Sith tradition or new fashion, but it wasn't something I'd expected. In another galaxy that polish would qualify him as a "goth".

"Vader is my past, present and my future, he is the only father I have ever truly known. When my birth father fled Vader would appear; guiding me, protecting me, and comforting me from the monsters that no others would be bothered to help me fight off…"

He pulled his hand away and turned his attention back towards me, "Come, lets go to bed." He purred and in an unseen arc of movement he swept behind me and gathered me off my feet and into his arms, I uttered a cry of surprise and delight and allowed him to carry me bridal style to his bedroom chamber.

I laughed in both delight and anxiety…truth was I had never done this willingly. Would it be somehow different this time with my consent? Somehow tender and poignant? Women talked about such things often but I'd never before experienced what they termed as rapture, passion and orgasm in the company of a male. Kylo had been the first male I'd ever willingly kissed, but I hoped he'd not sensed that…

His bed chamber wasn't the Spartan arrangements I had seen repeated endlessly within Starkiller Base, the basic decor was the same but scattered here and there was books, holocrons, music devices but the most vivid deviation from the stark conformity of the First Order was the art hung crowded upon the walls. I couldn't recall the last time I'd seen art anywhere within the galaxy. The canvases were slashed with vivid arcs of oil and acyclic color, sometimes the forms were angry and hate filled, others calm and meditative. I knew simply by the sight that the pieces were his own works. None of the forms swathed in reds, blacks, whites, greens, or blues possessed a face; all forms, whether expressive or realistic, were masked or cast in shadow.

"Do you like my work?" he inquired cautiously, clearly worried that showing something as intimate as artwork was stressful.

"It's stunning…" I praised inadequately, roving my eyes about in desperation to drink in every piece. Some of the canvas frames had been splintered in rage, the images sagging beneath the ravages of his anger. It was the calmer pieces that suffered this damage, typically ones of an ocean, or an island.

"Don't tell Supreme Leader. He finds art to nonconformist, and I hate that….conformity I mean…"

"We share that. I won't tell. Your work….are they Force visions?" I inquired, responding to raw pull of each image; in addition to colors, symbols were repeated consistently. Swords, masks, crosses, shadows, beams of light and blood upon snow, contrast of light and darkness. In the calmer ones there were crowns, night blooming flowers and halos of silver eclipse, in the angry ones swathes of flame, ghostly forms, pools of blood and slashes akin to the destruction of a light saber.

Easily he set me down on the bed which was standard black but much larger than any bed I'd ever seen in my pathetic excuse for a life, I lay obediently down and assumed what I hoped was a seductive pose but I felt as though I was being consumed by the downy soft pillows and blankets .I had never known such luxury. Before I joined Snoke the only bed I'd known was a bit of moldy hay. Kylo sat down, and passionately grabbed my legs….I'd thought perhaps in carnal desire but instead he was only unlacing my boots. I made sure to keep my legs uncrossed however, just in case.

"Yes, I often paint my Force visions and dreams, sometimes it can quite them." He gestured to one piece hung in the corner, almost out of sight. It was hyper realistic and depicted a figure robed in black and masked, stabbing a shadowed older male form in the heart with his lightsaber. Darkness swathed the image, the only source of light was a vague red glow in the background. "That one in particular plagues me, but painting helps…for the moment anyway."

The longer I looked at the image the more a sense of dread, defeat and sadness overwhelmed me. It should have been a moment of victory, but all I felt from it was surrender and weakness.

He pulled off my boots and ran his hands softly up from my ankle to my knees, the sensation of skin on skin causing my heart to flutter. I'd never been teased like this before…males typically just took what they wanted by now. He didn't even move up to my thighs, instead his hands shied away and glided up my waist, pushed away the outer layers of my scarlet robes and unbound my hair and slowly shook it free. He slid his hands through it and pulled me into another deep and consuming kiss. The fires woke within me again, and envisioned myself pinning him down on to the ridiculously soft mattress, mounting him and riding him until I finally found the pleasure women spoke so passionately about. It would be so easy…a few caresses, some removal of clothing and he could be mine…

He parted unexpectedly from the kiss, a blush rising in his cheeks, "Ikol, sweetie, you need to work on shutting out your mind. I don't mind seeing such things but there are plenty who would turn that sort of thing against you."

"Sorry…"I growled playfully, slipping my hands under his shirt and astonished to find solid muscle encasing his abdomen. Apparently the rumors he'd started about himself as Matt were based on reality. "Well let's make the thoughts a reality….then I won't need to dwell on them so much…" I made to slip my hands down his trousers.

Yet he shifted away from me completely, and eased my hand away, " I didn't invite you here for that purpose."

"What?' I almost whimpered, then found it very fortunate that my lightsaber wasn't within my hand and I hadn't yet learned to call it via the Force. Had it been there I would have surely taken his example and flown into a rage.

"You're angry, that's clear. I am sorry, I never had any attempt to bed you tonight although I can understand how you took that impression."

"Then…what use do I have?" I sighed forlornly and instantly thought of the flesh he'd not seen. I thought of how repulsive I looked in the mirror with my collar bones jutting from my shoulders, and ribs appearing to pierce through my torso. Some men might have found this malnourishment attractive but none could have found the ragged, loose folds of my stomach attractive, nor the bright stretch marks clawed across my hips and thighs, and sagging uneven breasts. I'd bore three children, twice for slave masters and once by command of Supreme Leader Snoke. None of the offspring made it into my arms nor suckled from my breasts, the only evidence they ever existed lay marked within this starved and sagging frame. I'd hoped Kylo Ren would grant my request to turn out the lights before he could suffer the sight of it. I felt quite like one of his ravaged artworks, a canvas just barely holding onto to a splintered frame.

His face twisted at my words, "Don't speak of yourself in such a manner. Don't speak the word "use" because the fact is I have no use for you. I have desire for you."

"Then…I am useless!" I cried in utmost despair, feeling horror deluging me deep within my chest. Typical wasn't it? I found myself yearning to be bedded for the first time in my life and he was rejecting me.

"You twist my words."

"Why exactly I am I here?" I pleaded, leaving all dignity behind but I turned away from him and instead faced the clashing images of raw emotion hung upon the wall, specifically the ocean scenes. In each of these paintings was a figure of a girl clad in grey, sometimes wadding the waves or climbing the island ruins, holding a saber of blue or even with her dark hair unbound and caught in the ocean breeze. In none of these paintings did I see any indication of myself, any glimpse of the Nightsisters. He'd never sensed me….never seen me…never felt me. _Why was I here?_

"I thought perhaps we should know each other a bit more intimately before we think of bedding each other." He replied, his dark voice pulling me insistently from my despairing thoughts. "As Matt I've heard rumor from women that sleeping in the presence of a potential lover deepens the emotional connection more than any other activity, including sex. Sex is actually the worst possible way to deepen a relationship. And we hardly know each other, we've seen each other for more than twenty minutes every few days. "

By the Fanged God….now I feel like a whore. "You….you really want that? A relationship? An intimate emotional connection? No good can come of such a thing, you must be barking mad! But you feel an awful lot don't you?"

"Yes…my parents always hated that about me. They hated everything about me however... "

I could hear it within the sudden angst within his voice, the raw wounded anger…it wasn't Kylo Ren who was speaking at the moment. It was the name I'd grasped unknowingly from his mind, Ben Solo. I felt my guard tighten…I didn't know this Ben Solo, this vulnerable aching creature pleading to me for comfort. I knew Kylo Ren, a figure cloaked in the darkness, brimming with the forgotten powers of the Sith, and wildly unbalanced in his anger. That had been whom first seduced me…

He spoke onward, still undoubtedly not Kylo Ren, "Ikol what I usually feel is pain…all emotion becomes pain, and pain becomes rage, rage becomes hate. You know the pattern as well as I do. But you don't cause me pain, nor rage. At any given moment I am liable to give the command to destroy entire star systems but you're the only one who I wouldn't destroy in a fit of rage. You and this fragile connection we have."

Damn….be it Ben Solo or Kylo Ren that was a hard line to not be drawn toward. "Sleep sounds nice Kylo Ren. Sorry…I just learned that beds had different purposes...I mean I am more than willing and apart from the reason of intimacy I still don't understand why you aren't taking advantage of this…"

"If I told the real reason you wouldn't like it." He answered cryptically.

The obvious answers to that mysterious statement were either he was impotent or carried a disease...but neither option felt like the true reason. This was Kylo Ren, a man swathed in darkness to hide his true nature from the outside world. The truth of his fear of physical intimacy was something much more mysterious at work here, I could sense it. And it drew me forward, I was always pulled by mystery. All that lay at stake here was my heart…a dissected, shriveled organ that had long lost emotional sensation and merely pumped blood as obeyed. I could risk a few more blows.

I didn't answer him with words but I did turn back round and allowed him back into my arms. He tangled himself eagerly into my embrace, and lay his head against my shoulder. We said nothing more, and within a matter of seconds his breathing grew calm and even with sleep. I briefly marveled that he'd managed to fall so swiftly into slumber but I'd witnessed him on the battle field today.

I'd seen him cutting enemies down ruthlessly with his saber, paralyzing them and their blaster fire in midair using waves of the Force, for a brief moment I'd even seen an arc of Force lighting lance from his fingertips but it wasn't the dramatic maelstrom other Sith holocrons described. He'd been an unstoppable raging war machine, whom finally reduced the enemy target to kneeling and mewling as he probed his mind for information on the Resistance ranks. In the end he'd shown the prisoner mercy in beheading him…or maybe he simply didn't like what he'd heard. I recognized some of the names the rebel had rattled off…Ackbar, Nien Nunb, Organa…the last triggered the prisoner's execution.

Thinking of the maddened berserker I'd seen on the field today, and days prior, it was simple to see why he'd be so exhausted and eager to rest in the arms of a stranger. It was well recorded that the power of the dark side drained and aged the body. I didn't know Kylo's age but there was marked exhaustion permanently etched around his eyes.

I sighed and gently caressed his dark curls, there was tenderness to my motion but now I felt burdened with the weight of a sleeping man several times larger than myself, and I was certain that slumber wouldn't find me anywhere near as swiftly this night.

For about an hour I let Kylo lay contently in my arms although I was anything but, his weight soon caused my arms to go numb. Slowly I was able to pull myself free without stirring him too much and edged off the bed, and I decided I didn't much care for cuddling. Luckily he didn't wake, but I paused a moment to drink him in once again; wondering at his age. He claimed Vader was his grandfather, and Vader had been dead for almost 30 years so I estimated in his late twenties, a few years older than me. I saw one far older etched around his eyes, but far more childish and frightened across the rest of his features. It gave me pause enough to wrap him in the blanket and shut off the lights.

I didn't have any particular purpose in mind as I wondered his chambers but I deliberately avoided the room with Vader's helmet, however I did find a small library/art studio. There a painting was in progress, the top portion painted in vivid hues of red and black but the bottom yet unpainted and only sketched with two figures in pencil that looked to be female in form. The top showed a space scape dominated by an immense scarlet eclipse and three smaller moons in various phases. The image sent a chill down my spine although I wasn't sure why. I moved onward and found a dining area, and there upon a small refrigeration unit were bottles of liquor, and not the pathetic swill I was used to. High quality wines and spirits that I could only steal from my former masters, and I'd never before seen within the First Order. I didn't hesitate, with the desperation of a desert wanderer I drank directly from the bottles until the sting of his rejection, my distaste and distrust for Supreme Leader and the gaping hole left by three unnamed and unsexed children was numbed away. In the haze of liquor it was almost as if my life had purpose and meaning rather than this endless loop of use, and being cast aside…as I knew Snoke would do to me in time. As I knew Kylo Ren would do.

I just wished I didn't care so much about how it would happen with Kylo Ren, wished he'd taken my suggestion to use me already and end the anxiety.

In his library I found his helmet, and giggling I donned it stumbled drunkenly about into walls and furniture, hardly able to see from the narrow slit and unable to figure out how to activate its guidance and readout systems. Wearing the helmet I shouted out the pounding notes of the old Empire's "Imperial March" and returned to the bedroom. Begrudgingly I pulled off the helmet and dropped it to the floor and crawled back onto the bed. Kylo Ren still slumbered on, but curled into a fetal position that made any urge to cuddle once again quite impossible so I settled for sloppily caressing his hair and face. I heard myself telling him aloud how lovely I found his features and form, and even using the name I wasn't supposed to know and promptly told myself to shut the fuck up. I settled onto the pillow and found slumber encroaching much swifter. I closed my eyes and envisioned a place I'd never physically seen, only Force visions granted me its sanctuary….a world awash in a crimson glow from the light of a red star, of jagged mountains, thick forest, whimsical swamp vegetation and a stone temple overgrown with vines bearing blood red flowers…and three moons…in the same phases I saw in the painting in progress…and above them…

"Yes…anything…" spoke a voice I'd never before heard from a source I couldn't see.

The world I'd been seeking drained away to pure darkness save for a single electronic glow of red somewhere in the background. A man with grey hair and tormented, aged features stepped forward and grabbed something I was holding out to him. I'd not seen his face before but I knew his form from Kylo's painting. I looked down to the object I was holding out…a lightsaber…Kylo's lightsaber…

I felt a sudden deluge of horror when I realized this wasn't my vision…I was seeing this though the eyes of Kylo Ren…of Ben Solo…

Than the fiery beam ignited, piercing the form clean through his chest.

"….Thank you…" I spoke with Kylo's Ren's undisguised voice…

Screams promptly tore the vision to shreds, and I gasped out in vertigo, confused to find myself seeing with my own eyes and once again laying half sober in Kylo Ren's to bed, it took a moment for me to realize the scream the rendered the vision apart belong to him. He was awake now, and howling out as though in hellish agony, and his eyes were unblinking orbs of pure fear. He tried to move and fight against the horror overtaking him, but his muscles were still paralyzed with sleep. I'd experienced such terrors before and knew their agony well, and I knew nothing in the galaxy could end them, the sufferer merely had to wait for it to pass. But the actions of a drunken woman are not so easily controlled so I held him anyway and whispered soothing words. It wasn't an instant transition, but in time he stopped screaming and his heart eased from its violent rhythm within his chest and movement returned to his limbs.

"You reek of wine." He commented trying to sound flippant.

"Oh….THANK YOU…Captain Obvious" I retorted too loudly.

His features twitched at my use of the phase, "Did you _see_?"

"See what? You stabbing that man with a lightsaber? Yes. It was just because I saw your painting and you said it haunts you, but it was weird…I _was_ you…but it's just a bad dream."

"No, no that's not it all…there is much more than that." He sounded perplexed and astonished but he said nothing more about the subject. "Can you do me a favor? You were thinking of something right before that vision. I could sense it. Somewhere glowing with red light. Will you think of it once again? It will help me to sleep."

"Your soooo strange! But you're my type of strange." I giggled, and sank down against his shoulder, he wrapped his arms tightly around me and for moment I realized were cuddling again and it didn't feel strange now. I closed my eyes and again called to mind the whimsical swamp world I'd never truly seen. Within moments I felt my consciousness ease into slumber and vaguely I thought I could sense Kylo Ren's doing the same.


End file.
